Forgotten
by Amiko-san
Summary: It's not easy to be pushed to the side, forgotten. It's painful and it hurts, even for the strongest of men. Gohan and Piccolo were once the best of friends, but how did they lose touch? Sometimes, all that's needed is a simple reminder.
1. Reminders

Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ or DBGT.

A/N: I _should_ be working on my multiple chapter story "How Things Change"…but I'm going to be mean. Oh well, hope ya'll don't mind.

Honestly, I can't remember if this would be considered GT or still in the DBZ time-range, but Pan is about two-ish. This will extend past chapter one, but not very far. It's just too dang long to make a one-shot.

Sorry, I'll stop babbling now. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Reminders

XxXx--

_"Please, no!" She pleaded, blood running freely down the corners of her mouth. The girl was young, too young. She couldn't have been more than thirteen, he doubted she could be older than that._

_"Pathetic human." He said. It wasn't his voice though, it couldn't be his voice. It was too harsh, too cruel. Too evil. That wasn't him, not now, not anymore. That was someone else, something else._

_"No." She cried, writhing against his iron grasp. He let go and she immediately fell backwards, sprawled on the concrete floor. _

_Eyes wide and face bruised she stared up at him, her fear so intense it was almost tangible. He didn't move, he just watched with inner amusement as she shakily stood, slowly backing away from him. She looked to the left and then to the right, but there was no escape for her._

_"Run." The demon said, the tiniest of grins tugging at the edge of his lips. But, no one knew his face well enough to recognize it._

_The smallest shimmer of hope crossed her face and she darted off in the opposite direction. He could hear her breathing in raged, tired gasps. And then he lifted his hand. She'd barely made it a few yards away, but it was still engaging to see her try. One thing the humans did have was will, and a lot of it. To bad they were too weak, and stupid, to know what to do with all that will power, they might just have some potential otherwise._

_With the slightest of ki blasts he snuffed out her life, and there was nothing that remained of her. His aim was perfect, his technique flawless. He was the embodiment of Sinicism, unparalleled evil with no thoughts of remorse or compassion. He was perfect. _

_Another ki blast knocked out a building to his left, the flames were brilliant. The humans were screaming, running, trying to get away. The fools, they couldn't escape. No one could, the world was his. He would bring a reign of terror to this planet like nothing the mortals had ever seen._

_Death. Pain. Fear. Hatred. Anger. The emotions that circled and churned inside his soul, keeping him the Demon he was. Evil's muse and sin's incarnate, sweet bitterness. How utterly ironic._

_"Three…two…" He sent a deadly ki blast into the crowd of stampeding humans. "One." _

_Then there was laughter, and it shook the very ground beneath his feet. It was as though the Earth itself trembled below him, his terrible presence causing the planet's core to shudder. And it amused him all the more._

XxXx--

Piccolo's eyes were open wide, the rapid beat of his own heart pulsed at the tips of his ears. He felt sweat run down the side of his face, past his cheeks and onto the marble floor. Dende was standing in front of him, a worried expression on his face. Piccolo scoffed and stood up, but didn't tower over his Namekian junior as he once had. Dende had grown too much, he wasn't the child he once was.

"Piccolo-sama, is everything okay?" He asked.

"Fine." Piccolo grunted in response, trying earnestly to shake off the after-effects of his nightmare. Kami, he thought he'd long since outgrown those.

Dende half turned and took a few steps toward the sanctuary, but still watched his older friend.

"You're sure you're alright?" He asked. "You almost seemed-"

"I said I'm fine." Piccolo barked, walking to the edge of the Lookout.

"Alright, if you say so." Dende said, walking away from Piccolo and into the darkened sanctuary.

"Piccolo, perhaps talking about your nightmares would help in relieving them." Mr. Popo said, walking away from his plants with a water bucket in hand.

"What would you know." Piccolo said flatly.

"I remember when Kami would be as frightened as you were just then, his nightmares often had him upset and fearful for days."

"He was weak." Piccolo said, looking over the edge and out into the cloudy vastness.

"Physically weaker than you, yes. But not weak-minded. Just be careful not to keep everything bound-up inside of you, you will gain nothing from-"

"Shut up, I didn't ask for a lecture." Piccolo said, turning to scowl toward the genie.

Mr. Popo shrugged and turned to walk back to his plants. He didn't push his point, and he didn't try to make Piccolo change his mind. That was how Mr. Popo was, he didn't try to make people see his way. But Piccolo watched him walk away, contemplating what the man had said. Perhaps he did need to tell someone, but he couldn't talk to just anyone.

But he did know the one person he could tell.

Piccolo powered up and took off, down toward the Earth's surface. He didn't even have to think about where he was going, or how to get there. He knew too well just how far away his friend was, and he hoped it was a good time to see him. Though it had been quite a while since he'd set foot on that lawn, he knew Gohan wouldn't mind the intrusion.

Gohan.

It had been a long time since they'd seen each other. Gohan was busy, life had taken over. He had a family, job and home to take care of, and no time for visiting an old, childhood teacher. No time for a trip to the lookout, or going to the desert for a friendly spar. Simply no time for the past, really.

Kami, how did things turn out this way? Piccolo slowed down and contemplated turning back, what purpose did he serve in Gohan's life now anyway? Certainly not 'sensei' anymore. Wasn't is just yesterday he was a pint-sized, "mop-top", mini-me, following in Piccolo's every step? Who adored every word (few as they may be) that Piccolo directed toward him, and managed to escape his mother's watchful eyes every so often, always coming to spend time with his teacher.

Time simply went by too quickly. It didn't seem like so very long ago Gohan was a child himself, and now he had one of his own. Pan, the small but feisty little girl was completely taken with her grandfather Goku, and Goku was wrapped around that child's finger. Young as she may be, for she was no more than two, she loved to fight. She wanted to be a warrior like Goku, and Goku liked the attention.

Who could blame the man, Piccolo had liked the attention of a child too. The attention and care of one child had caused Piccolo to give up everything he knew and wanted, even his own life. Gohan's affection and respect had done what nothing else could, and Piccolo remembered it all. Every mock-bow and salute, every joke and teasing remark, his wild hair and big eyes.

He remembered the chunky little boy who stole his wardrobe, who fought along side him through battle after battle. Every endearing look of a student to his beloved mentor; every stout laugh the boy had made was engrained in Piccolo's memory, never to be forgotten. Where had that little boy gone? And just when had he grown up? Seemed to Piccolo it had happened overnight; but then, isn't that what every parent says?

_Enough reminiscing. _Piccolo thought, almost bitterly.

There was the house, relatively small and modest as it was. What day of the week was it? If it were a week day Gohan would be at work, and Piccolo was _not_ going to deal with the two females of the house until he got back.

No, he could sense Gohan inside the house, so it's the weekend. Piccolo landed smoothly onto the ground at the edge of the property, about fifty feet from the back of the house. He crossed his arm, closed his eyes and leaned against the first tall tree he found.

And he waited. Five minutes passed, fifteen, twenty. And then _he _came outside.

"Piccolo-san!" Gohan exclaimed, all but bursting from within the house. It took him just a minute to pinpoint Piccolo's form, but when he did he practically jogged down to him.

"It's good to see you, it's been…" Gohan stopped short and thought.

"Too long." Piccolo finished, pushing himself off the tree he'd been leaning against.

"How are you?" Gohan asked, scowling just a little.

Piccolo looked over at his young ex-apprentice and snorted. "You're too intuitive."

"No, I just know you." Gohan stated bluntly. "But tell me what's up, something's bothering you."

Piccolo looked Gohan up and down, then began walking toward the house. Gohan followed just behind him, watching him. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but something was wrong. Piccolo was acting…different. He was somewhat melancholy, more than usual anyway. He wasn't grunting, he wasn't silent. He was different.

But Gohan knew better that to prod, Piccolo would tell him when he was ready. That is, if he was ever ready. That was a strangeness about Piccolo, sometimes he'd just have spells of being sad, or even lonely. Gohan always felt a tad guilty when Piccolo would come to visit, mostly because he knew there really wasn't anyone else Piccolo _would_ visit.

That was Piccolo, though. He was one unto himself. It might be said that no human was an island, but Piccolo certainly had that ability sometimes.

"Where that's brat of yours?" Piccolo asked.

"Visiting mom and dad for the weekend." Gohan grinned a little. "Dad came to pick her up this morning."

Piccolo made a slight grunt, which signaled he understood. Goku had never been that dedicated to Gohan when he was a kid, at least not in Piccolo's opinion. If he went away to fight or train, he stayed away. He was dead for a year when Gohan was near Pan's age, he stayed gone in space for a year, then stayed dead for seven years. By the time Gohan was eighteen he'd been with his father exactly the same amount of time he'd been without him.

Well, at least Gohan had a better father than Piccolo did. At least Gohan's father didn't transfer every bloody, violent, evil memory he had into his son, didn't plague him with nightmares that could make Vegeta himself tremble. Didn't transmit every negative feeling he'd ever had into his son, to keep his evil tasks or make him seek vengeance on his enemies.

Goku was a better father than Daimaou, at least Gohan could say that.

"Gohan," came a feminine voice at the doorway. "What are you…oh, hello Piccolo-sama."

Piccolo looked up to see Videl, Gohan's wife, staring at him a little uneasily. She had yet to spend enough time with him not to be afraid of him. He was, well, scary. He understood that, and tried to overlook her for it. Pan didn't seem so hostile, though, she'd often welcomed him with a hug (or, rather, an attempted hug that Piccolo would block). She was, in several ways, just like Gohan had been.

Piccolo grunted in return, knowing Gohan was watching him pensively. Every time he and that woman met Gohan acted like he was on pins-and-needles. Like he was waiting for something to happen, though Piccolo didn't know what. He imagined, that since Piccolo expressed his utter dislike for her father, Gohan tried to make sure he didn't feel that badly about Videl. Though, she reminded the Namek of the boy's mother, and that was never a good thing.

"It's nice to see you again." Videl said. "Do you want something to…drink."

Piccolo smirked, knowing she had nearly forgotten that he only ever drunk water. He nodded and she went inside, but not without giving Gohan a look and nodding her head. Gohan blushed and turned to Piccolo, twitching just a little.

"Why don't you just wait here," He pointed to the patio. "She probably just needs my help to reach something."

Piccolo quirked an eye ridge and nodded. Females, he certainly didn't understand them.

Gohan walked on ahead and into the house, where Videl was waiting on him in the kitchen. She was scowling and had her arms crossed, tapping her foot irritably. He suddenly felt like he was back at home, being lectured for visiting with the 'demon' again. He shut the door behind him and walked closer.

"Son Gohan," She started. "What's going on? Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?"

Gohan was quick to get to her and cover her mouth.

"Shh, he can hear you." Gohan whispered. "He can hear _everything_ when we're this close."

He pulled her gently into the laundry room and turned on the dryer. He uncovered her mouth and was promptly hit over the head.

"Just what do you think you're doing? Don't ever hold my mouth like that again!" She crossed her arms and scowled.

"Videl, I didn't want you saying anything that would…you know, make him mad."

"I don't _care_ if I make him mad, he can call like everyone else to let us know he's coming over."

"Videl he's not like that, he just comes over whenever." Gohan looked at the door. "He doesn't even own a phone."

"Then he can at least tell us something somehow before he just shows up. Look at us, having to talk in our laundry room because he has such big ears!"

"Videl don't say that, he can't help that he has good hearing. All Nameks are like that." Gohan looked to the dryer and turned the knob, making the noise louder.

"I can't hear myself think in here!" She yelled.

"Shh!" Gohan said. "He can hear you if you yell, stop it."

She glared at him. "Don't tell me what to do, you're mother told me some things about Piccolo that I didn't like."

Gohan's eye brows furrowed and he bit the inside of his cheeks.

"So that's why you're acting like this, Mom said some stuff to you."

"Well, yes. He killed your father, and hundreds of people at the 23rd Teckenchi Budokai. He was a demon, and a lot of the other senshi are weary of him too. I know its true, I've talked to them."

"Videl! I don't go asking you're old friends about the people you hang out with. Piccolo's my best friend, you know that."

"I know that, but I don't have to like him just because you do." She snorted. "You promised to help me today. You said you would cut the grass, and fix that window upstairs, and-"

"I know, I know. I will do that stuff, but I never get to see Piccolo. I really want to visit for a little while."

"Bull, Gohan." Videl said. "He never just stays a 'little while'. He stay for hours when he comes by, and even stays overnight sometimes."

"He only does that when I ask him to, he doesn't impose on us…he'd never do that." Gohan hit the dryer, but not enough to brake it. "Videl, please don't be like this. I told you what Piccolo's done for me all these years. If he wants to talk for a day here and there, I owe him that much."

Videl softened just a little. "Fine Gohan, go ahead and visit. But you _will_ fix that window and cut the grass, even if it's after work this week."

"Yes dear, you know I will." He turned off the dryer and kissed her on the cheek as he walked past her.

He opened the door to the laundry room, smiling, and walked through the kitchen. He felt odd though, something wasn't right. He didn't feel Piccolo's ki nearby, it felt like it was miles away, moving fast. Not just that, he couldn't _feel_ Piccolo. They had a bond, the two of them, ever since Gohan was just a kid.

Dende had said it was quite a lot like telepathy, but it was just a Namekian bond. When Piccolo was feeling or thinking something, Gohan felt it too; but only when they were close enough. Long distances rarely worked unless they tried to contact each other.

But Gohan was being blocked, quite forcefully, by Piccolo. Gohan had never learned how to block out his sensei from their bond, and he'd never wanted to. Only once in his life had Gohan been blocked like this from Piccolo, and that had been years ago.

Gohan darted out the door to the patio, but was greeted with empty chairs and concrete ground. Videl followed soon after, wondering why Gohan had become so anxious. She didn't see Piccolo anywhere, but Gohan was now sitting in one of their lawn chairs, head cradled by his hands.

"Gohan, what is it?" She asked, genuinely concerned for him. She knelt beside him and put her arm on his shoulder. "Where's Piccolo? Wasn't he waiting out here?"

Gohan was silent and still for several minutes, then he looked up at her. His eyes were so sad, that's the only way she could describe them. He looked lost, he looked confused and hurt all at once. She felt a stab of pain on his account, had she said something wrong to him? Maybe she'd been just a little too hard on him.

Gohan opened his mouth and she held her breath, paying close attention to him. She'd truly never seen him like this. He put a hand to his forehead and sighed. He didn't look at her, he looked past her into the distance, letting his eyes relax and un-focus. Then he took a breath.

"Piccolo's…gone."

To be continued…


	2. Forgiveness

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or DBGT.

A/N: Wow, more reviews than I thought. Thanks for reading guys, sorry for the extra long wait for the second chapter, and end, of this story. Life takes over sometimes, you know how it is.

-Ahem- I think I'll take some of you by surprise with this chapter. Maybe, if I do my job correctly.

Thank you to my awesome reviewers:** Volcanic, CW, Kieri, Pics-Pixie, flip2dafullest, arghh, sexy green namek lover** (love your name), **Dancing Mouse, Blue Seer, Kimyou Doll, storm-of-insanity, Kasei Tomodatchi, ** and **Ishida Jill.**

Chapter 2

Forgiveness

"What once was lost, forgotten in the darkest corners of my mind, I now have found.

Oh, what joy there is when Love and Life burn brightly within my soul." - A. Larsen

Piccolo bared his teeth and dug his taloned fingers into the fleshy palm of his hands. His cape whipped around him fiercely, as though it, too, was as angry as he. In fact, Piccolo doubted he'd ever been so angry before, not like this. This time being angry hurt, his entire being wished to be thousands of miles in any other direction.

It really was time for him to get Gohan out of his mind, as if such a thing were possible. At least, it was time for Piccolo to allow Gohan to forget about him, apparently their friendship was putting a strain on his other relationships. ChiChi had hated poor Piccolo for years, that much was certain and undeniable. In fact, with all the good Piccolo had done over the years for the Son family (and the Earth, for that matter), one would think the woman would have grown a little less prejudice.

Piccolo nearly jerked to a halt. That woman had caused enough trouble for him. He'd always overlooked her actions and bitter words for Gohan's sake, if not even for Peace's sake. Should he have ever of put up a fight, a reasonable one at that, there would have been HFIL to pay for everyone involved, and Piccolo had never wanted to be a burden on Gohan. He'd always wanted to be a respected figure, one Gohan could come to when in trouble.

Hmph, apparently that was out of the question.

Without further ado Piccolo redirected himself back to where he'd come from, and so it didn't take long to land on their front lawn. He looked around expectantly, as though he was anticipating an attack from any direction. No, there was only on ki nearby, and it was _hers_. Time for setting strait old grievances and new ones, time for truly putting the past behind them…all of them.

"ChiChi." He yelled, not quite so viciously as he'd wanted to. Whether for good or ill he simply wasn't that way now. Stoic and proud he may be but evil and cruel he was not, not anymore.

It didn't take but a few minutes for her to make her way to the front door, and then into the lawn. When she appeared Piccolo had to suppress an almost involuntary, and very undignified, "jaw-drop". The woman was…old. She'd aged since the last time Piccolo had seen her. But then that had been, Kami, six or seven years earlier. Ever since Gohan had begun living on his own, and seeing her was not a requirement for seeing him, Piccolo hadn't bothered to come back to this place.

It almost made him lose his nerve and turn back, but that was not his way. He had to talk to her, speak his mind for once. She had to know what she'd done, had to know what she was still doing by not accepting him. Sure she tolerated his presence when she had to, but obviously conveyed her not-so-high opinion of him once he was gone.

"Hello Piccolo." She said, not as meanly as she would have said it a few years earlier, but also not too friendly either.

"You and I have business." He said.

She gave him a look and crossed her arms, still not too meanly but certainly irritated. "Gohan's at home, he's not here. And if it's Pan you're after she's off fishing with Goku."

She gave a curt nod and looked at him expectantly, ready for him to take off in either direction.

"That's not why I'm here." Piccolo said, toneless.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Well, then, Goten is at Capsule Corp. doing a school project with Trunks. Apparently they needed his computers for some part of it."

Piccolo couldn't help but let out a small grunt, this wasn't turning out so easy.

"I did not come to speak with anyone else but you." He finally said, this time he took a few steps forward so to see her reactions better. At first, he'd been standing nearly on the opposite end of the yard.

ChiChi did look surprised, but immediately straightened her face when he came toward her. Stiffened and feeling somewhat infringed, she tightened her arms over her chest and put on her best fighters face: impassive stare and cold eyes. Once Piccolo was upon her, nearly within arms length, she stared at him straight in the face, meeting his eyes. Even after all these years, Gohan's entire childhood and adolescence, Goten and Pan's births, and all that was in between she _still_ had issues with him. How very sad.

Piccolo calmed himself and began, as best he could, to simply speak what had been on his mind the entire flight down here. He expected shouting, hitting, perhaps some ki blast (not aimed at her, but at least in his defense) and a wrecked relationship that he'd tried so hard to keep placated for the past eighteen years. All was about to be ruined, and his ears would be bleeding by the end of it. If one thing could be said of ChiChi, she had extreme lung power.

"For eighteen years I've been a part of Gohan's life." He started, not too loud and not too soft. Though he was mostly toneless, he was getting his point across.

"And every day of it I've had to put up with you and your hatred for me. You never wanted me around, and so I tried my best to keep away from you. Gohan was the only one I wanted to bother with anyway."

And then, after he breathed, he lost his temper. His voice suddenly rose as his emotions did get the best of him, but he didn't bellow as ChiChi would have. Though, she did bend her neck slightly at the new found hostility in his words.

"I died for that kid, I hope you know that. Never in my life have a felt such pain than I did dying for Gohan. But I'd do it again. I'd do it every hour of every day if it meant keeping him safe and happy. But you don't see any of that, all you see is MaJunior. The Demon who killed innocent people at the 23rd Teckenchi Budokai, beat up Goku and kidnapped Gohan to train him.

"Yeah, I did those things. Training Gohan I don't regret, I'll never regret it whether that hurt you or not. But killing all those people and causing so much pain, those things still haunt me. I have to live with my sins, and trust me I'll be punished plenty in the afterlife, so why are you trying so hard to make my life here a living _h-ll_?"

Piccolo breathed in deeply and awaited his verbal beating…and he waited. Finally, after he'd actually had time to calm down somewhat, he contemplated the look ChiChi was giving him. He nearly face vaulted, had he not caught himself in time. Did pigs just take flight and HFIL freeze over? Son ChiChi was, well, speechless.

She did frown, and open her mouth, but no words came. She cleared her throat and shook away an odd feeling of guilt.

"Why did you say all of this?" She asked, trying hard to add some edge to her words. But, they simply came out strained.

Piccolo scowled himself and swallowed. This was not the reaction he'd been expecting, this was not the ChiChi he remembered. Where was her finesse? Her ferocity? Her _everything_?

"I visited Gohan today, that mate of his practically spat in my face because of what you told her about me." He said, losing the sharpness in his voice he'd had moments earlier.

ChiChi looked a little unsure at first, then blinked. "Videl? I don't remember…I've never liked you, so I guess that was obvious. I don't…I've never said things to her on purpose, just to get at you."

Piccolo's eyes widened just a little, as he found himself on the receiving end of an apology from ChiChi. He was certain now that HFIL had, indeed, frozen over completely.

"I know you care about Gohan, I think I'm just really good at holding grudges. But at my age I don't think it's wise to keep those anymore, not even against you." She forced a smile, which faded quickly into a small grin. "Sorry."

Piccolo stood still, swallowed again, nodded his head, and turned to look around the yard. He was ready for the Earth to split in two, or the sky to come crashing down, or some unheard of phenomena to occur. That, at least, would make more sense than ChiChi apologizing.

ChiChi nodded too, and turned around to go back into the house.

"What a minute." Piccolo said.

She turned to face him.

"That's it? That's all you're going to say? No fighting, or yelling…or throwing things?"

ChiChi eyed him oddly for a few seconds, took a breath, and then laughed. Her small chuckles turned to outright fits of laughter, the force of which made her hold her abdomen. Piccolo just watched in utter confusion as she doubled over in amusement, tears beginning to run down her face as she lost any and all composure.

Piccolo smirked. It had finally happened, ChiChi had completely lost her mind.

Seconds later ChiChi calmed down enough to get another look at her visitor, and couldn't help but snicker some more. She took the dish rag from off her shoulder, where she'd placed it when she came outside, and tossed it toward Piccolo. The green giant grabbed it mid-air, stared dumbly at it and then at her, and held it out at arms length.

ChiChi nearly snorted with bemusement. "Ha, there, happy now?"

Piccolo's eye twitched and mouth opened slightly. But, amidst the absolute chaos he suddenly found himself caught up in, he could not form words.

"Huh?" Was the only coherent word he could reply with, undignified as it was.

"You wanted me to throw something, so there." She huffed and walked up to him, taking the towel out of his hand.

He scowled.

"You really ought to learn to relax, you'll give yourself a heart attack taking everything so seriously." She said, walking away from him.

Piccolo shook his head and cleared his throat. "Some advise, coming from the woman who nearly had a Conniption Fit about her husband getting his license."

ChiChi stopped and turned around. "You failed that little test too, if memory serves me."

Piccolo snorted.

"I still don't know how I actually talked you into it, and wearing those old clothes of Goku's." She smiled a little and leaned against the house.

"You didn't." Piccolo said, moving just a little closer to the house. "You made Gohan talk me into it."

"Ah, yes. I remember that now." She tapped her finger on her elbow and said, more to herself than Piccolo: "You always did do what he wanted."

Piccolo sneered a little and looked down at the ground.

_Give me a break. _He thought. _It wasn't that obvious, was it?_

There was a long, but not uncomfortable silence. Piccolo was rather amazed, he'd never spent this much time alone (and unharmed) with her before. Actually, truth be told, he'd never spent _any_ time alone with her. Old age suited her well, she'd actually mellowed out a little. Too bad she'd not caught on to the idea some years back, that certainly would have made Piccolo's life a little easier.

"So," She started, after at least three minutes of silence. "Are you thirsty?"

Piccolo started, looked up at her, and just nodded. She twisted her neck, indicating he was welcome to come inside, and walked through the doorway. Piccolo stood outside for a few seconds, debating on whether he should be pushing his luck with her. Then he decided to go inside, certainly things couldn't get any more strange than they already had. Besides, getting on her good side now might mean getting on Videl's good side too.

So, he tossed his weights to the side of the house and entered. A glass of water was waiting for him on the table, and ChiChi was continuing with her dishes. Piccolo looked a little oddly at the setting, but then shrugged it off and sat down. He did hate human chairs, they were always so uncomfortable and short. The water was good though, and he drunk it slowly, savoring both it and the silence.

This wasn't so bad, it was actually a little relaxing. Neither adults talked, except that ChiChi said Goku would soon be returning with Pan. And then there was more silence, because there was simply nothing the two had to say to each other. And, oddly enough, both became comfortable with the arrangement. Once the dishes were finished ChiChi made her own self a glass of water, then refilled Piccolo's glass, and sat at the table across from the warrior.

Both did nothing but listen. Listen to the silence.

X-x-X-x-X

Gohan landed on the grass with a slight crunch, as it was nearing fall and the lawn was getting stout. Videl was close behind him, none to happy. Gohan was slightly confused, he knew he felt Piccolo here, but he also felt his mother. No one else, just the two. What was going on? Those two couldn't get along if the Earth depended on it, not even if the latter was a possibility.

Gohan huffed and grabbed Videl's hand, leading her toward the house. The door was open, and so Gohan just walked inside. He stopped dead in his tracks once he noticed who was sitting at the kitchen table, directly in front of him. Piccolo to his right and his mother to his left. They were alive, not fighting, not yelling…nothing. Just sitting there, drinking water.

"Um, hi." Gohan said.

Videl was beside him, just staring at the three of them.

"Hi dear, how are you?" ChiChi asked.

"I'm…fine." Gohan said, eye brows furrowed. He looked to Piccolo, who just stared at him blankly, and then at his mother.

"So, were you two just…visiting?" He asked, and the words sounded strange just coming from him.

"Well, sort of. Just drinking some water and sitting here." ChiChi said, standing up and putting her empty glass in the sink. She reached over the table for Piccolo's glass, which he pushed toward her fingers just enough for her to grab it.

Gohan clamped his mouth shut, blinking several times. "Um, well, Piccolo…Videl and I came to apologize."

Videl stepped forward immediately. "Yes, I'm sorry if I offended you. I didn't mean to."

Piccolo looked at her, which made her a tad uncomfortable, and then his gaze returned to Gohan.

"Piccolo-san, I'm sorry if you heard anything that made you mad." He said earnestly. "I like your visiting, I like seeing you. Videl doesn't mind, she was really just mad at me for not doing those chores weeks ago. You just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Gohan smiled at his friend, hoping there was no permanent damage done. After a minute Piccolo lifted the corner of his mouth slightly, which Gohan knew meant that all was well again. Piccolo never could resist that kids smile anyway, it always made him break.

"So, are we all good now?" ChiChi asked.

"Well, sure." Gohan said cheerfully. "But what I want to know is, how come you and Piccolo are suddenly getting along?"

"We just are, seems we both finally grew up." She said. "Besides, it only took eighteen years."

Gohan's eyes widened a little, and he just stood contemplating for a minute. This was certainly unexpected, to say the least.

Videl snickered and crossed her arms. "So where's Pan and Goku?"

"Fishing." ChiChi said.

"And Goten?" Gohan asked.

"Capsule Corp."

There was a pause, and Gohan took a seat next to Piccolo. "What about supper?"

ChiChi "hmphed" and crossed her arms. "So I guess that means you're expecting a meal from me?"

Gohan blushed and smiled vaguely. "No."

Videl stood behind Gohan and leaned on his back. "I'll help you cook up something, since you're gonna have a full house."

ChiChi smiled. "Yes. We'll get started on dinner, but you two boys get out of the kitchen." She grabbed Gohan by the ear and made him stand up.

Piccolo was standing in an instant, anxious that the woman would try that trick on him, and followed Gohan out the door. When the two were farther into the yard Gohan hit Piccolo on the arm playfully, getting his friend's attention.

"You're staying aren't you?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure." Piccolo said.

Gohan smiled wider. "Good. Today has been…interesting."

Piccolo scoffed. "Interesting indeed."

Gohan cleared his throat and walked down the hill. "Spar with me sensei."

"Sensei?" Piccolo repeated. "I'm not your sensei anymore."

Gohan stopped and frowned. "Well sure you are, you'll never _not_ be. I'm afraid you're stuck with me Pic, from now on."

Gohan gave a stout laugh and began his stretches, powering up within a few minutes to begin their match. Piccolo stretched as well, but wasn't quite as interested in the sparing match as he should have been. What Gohan had just said sobered him and made him think. Still his sensei? Never won't be? Stuck with him?

Gohan landed a punch to Piccolo's middle, and Piccolo returned with a kick to the demi-Saiyan's head.

"Aiya! Piccolo-san, that hurts!" Gohan said, rubbing his bruising forehead. "Kami, I'd forgotten what a tough sparing partner you are."

Piccolo smirked and watched as Gohan buckled down and became serious again. No one could deny the boy was a Saiyan, fighting was in his blood. Scholar or no scholar, he was a warrior nonetheless.

_"I'm afraid you're stuck with me Pic, from now on."_ Gohan had said, and the words still rang in Piccolo's ears.

Yes. He was right, as he was always right. And Daimaou, he was dead. Dead to the world and dead to Piccolo, as he should be. Nightmares or no, Piccolo had a life to live and a family he cared for. Oddly enough, though, the Sons weren't his real family, not even the same species. And ironically, they were the family he was fated to destroy, but that was no longer a possibility.

_Yeah kid, I'm stuck with you._ Piccolo thought. But, Gohan would never realize just how right he really was.

Fin


End file.
